


a soft epilogue

by theredhoodie



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Epilogue, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 12:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17304644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: In the aftermath of stopping a civil, and world, war, Arthur takes Mera home to meet his parents and get a tiny taste of a normal land life.





	a soft epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I've never read any Aquaman comics and know nothing about Atlaneans or Atlantis so I made up some stuff about the culture based on the film and my own needs for the fluff haha.
> 
> This is pure fluff, like a small added scene after the movie. I took the "fish out of water" trope and ramped it up because I just couldn't help it.
> 
> I can't remember the last time I wrote anything this fluffy!

The rest of Amnesty Bay was mostly destroyed by the tidal wave and was still picking itself up and putting itself back together, but the lighthouse and dock somehow managed to stay standing, as if protected by some higher power.

The scene through the window, barely seen from the dock, was one he’d imagined his whole life, but it was always out of his grasp. His parents,  _ both _ of them, sitting on the couch in the living room under a shared blanket, steaming mugs of tea in hand. 

“I’m not so sure of this,” Mera said, taking a step back toward the edge of the dock. “You’ve barely had any time with your mother and — ”

“Nope,” Arthur interrupted, grabbing her waist and pulling her along with him toward the humble home. “You belong here, too.”

“Oh.” Her eyes glanced down at the steps as they climbed up toward the lighthouse. She saw the sweet and quiet scene within as well, something she never knew she wanted until she met...well, a lot of things had changed very quickly. It was hard to tell exactly where her cyclone of emotions would land. Just days ago, Orm was threatening the surface world with war, and now the seas were calm and Arthur was the bridge between two worlds.

Mera wrung out her hair as they got closer to the house, though nothing could be done about her bright green clothes to make her fit in with the soft and small house. She hesitated just a moment as Arthur walked in, surprising her for a moment before she remembered that this was his home, too.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, his voice loud and booming.

“Arthur!” Atlanna stepped out from under the blanket and embraced her son. Arthur had spent almost his entire life thinking of how it would feel to have his mother back, and he still didn’t know exactly how he was supposed to act. The last time the family was together, he was just a toddler, and now he was a grown man.

The floor creaked under Mera’s shoes and mother and son stepped apart. Mera smiled at Atlanna and Tom.

“Right, you remember Mera,” Arthur said to his mother, who nodded and moved forward to squeeze Mera’s hands with more affection than most of Mera’s family showed her throughout her life.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Tom said, stepping around the couch and holding out a hand, rough and worn from a life of labor.

“I saved your life,” Mera said, eyeing his hand before briefly clasping his forearm.

Tom chuckled and glanced over at Arthur. “Yes. Thank you for that.” He knew better than most what it was like when a lady of Atlantis came to the surface. The two worlds were entirely different, and while Mera appeared a bit more adjusted than Atlanna had been when she washed ashore, she still had a lot to learn.

“It’s so wonderful to have you here,” Atlanna said, looking regal and relaxed at the same time in bare feet and loose cotton clothes. “It’s so wonderful to all be together.”

“Yeah, it is,” Arthur said as his father put his arm around Atlanna’s shoulders. Arthur cleared his throat and glanced toward the kitchen, the worn dining table and the familiar faded yellow wallpaper. “We should have a big family dinner.”

“Great idea,” Tom said, roaming over to his jacket hanging on the back of a seat. He pulled a set of keys from the pocket and tossed them to Arthur. “I’m borrowing a truck from the Stevenson’s. Take it inland and get something for all of us.”

“Sure.” Arthur glanced at Mera. “Maybe we should change first.” It wasn’t as if he wanted to scream out to the world that he was Aquaman, and the green and gold getup would definitely do that.

Mera borrowed some of Atlanna’s old clothes and Arthur quickly pulled on a familiar outfit from his closet. Ten minutes later, they were in one of the few remaining vehicles still running after the wave, heading down the coast.

Mera leaned an arm on the door and let the salty air tug her drying hair around her face. “It’s so calm,” she commented.

After a handful of days underwater trying to get things sorted post-battle, the simple tasks of the land dwellers must have looked decidedly placid. “For now. Looks like there’s still a lot of debris to clear and houses to rebuild…” Arthur trailed off and shook his head. The whole point of slipping away from the throne and coming home was to ignore his kingly responsibilities for a day, if they could. 

He pulled off the road and cut the engine soon after. 

“Those are fishermen?” Mera asked at the hunched backs and rubber boots of a handful of men down at what remained of the small wharf. Arthur replied with an affirmative, and she stepped carefully over the well worn path with Arthur a few steps ahead. He called out to one of the men, who straightened his back and called back with a smile. The men clasped hands and Mera stayed standing back a few feet, her nose sensitive to the many different types of fish laying out on tubs of ice. 

“What do you think?” Arthur asked her.

“Hmmm.” She stepped forward, unaware of the attention she garnered from the weather worn men. Pollock, herring, salmon and trout sat on the ice. They were not big specimens and they would need two to feed four people. Mera scooped up one of the herring in her hands and brought it close to her face. 

As if reading her mind, Arthur took the fish from her. “Let’s uh...not eat sushi and scales, all right?”

The fisherman laughed and Mera sighed, waiting impatiently while the fish were both double wrapped. There was an exchange of paper money and then they headed back to the truck.

“I was thinking we’d  _ cook _ the fish tonight before eating it,” Arthur said, wrenching the truck door open.

Mera frowned. “Why?”

“Sushi’s great and all — ” He set the fish on the seat between them, “but Dad’s the only one of us who isn’t Atlantan so I think he’d prefer it from the oven.”

Mera had witnessed a great many oddities about the surface world during her first trip here to find Arthur and the quest to find the trident that followed. She had eaten a little bit of food, but it was still strange to her. “Okay,” she replied, though she didn’t agree that the fish would taste better cooked over a flame. 

The truck started going again, this time heading away from the ocean.

“Why did we buy fish from near the lighthouse?” she asked. “Isn’t that why we’re going inland?”

“The place I grew up is small. We all pretty much know each other, especially in the off season when there aren’t any tourists. After the town got wrecked...we’re just trying to support each other. Fishers who still have their boats still fish, and I’d rather buy from them than a supermarket.”

“That’s very noble,” she said, though she eyed the cold, dead fish between the seat. “What’s a supermarket?”

He chuckled and shook his head, eyes on the road. “Don’t worry about it. We’re going to a local marketplace anyway.” 

Mera quietly watched the ocean slip out of her sight. It didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. At least they were close to the ground. She hadn’t enjoyed that flight across the Sahara Desert one bit, prefering to keep her feet close to the earth. It had only been weeks since she first came to the land to seek out Arthur Curry during the battle with Steppenwolf, and yet it felt like another lifetime. So much had happened, and everything on land was still so new.

“What is that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose as Arthur twisted a knob on the dashboard of the truck that filled the truck with noise.

“Static,” he grumbled, twisting it again and again until it found a reasonably clear station. “Ahhh. There you have good, old fashioned land-loving music.” 

He smiled at her, big and wide and she couldn’t help but smile back. Uniting four clans and dealing with the aftermath of a civil war wasn’t easy nor quick. They had both been working hard, along with a few trusted others, and had hardly any time alone before they stepped onto the dock in Amnesty Bay. 

Whatever was between them was just as new as everything on the surface was to Mera.

The air got less salty as the landscape became nothing but green. Trees reached toward the skies, thick and unwilling to allow cold winters or human hands strike them down. Mera much prefered the trees to the sand of the desert.

Soon, the trees broke down a crumbling cliff, with a small town settled down at the base of the cliff. The road down to it was bumpy and rough and she had to hold the dead fish in her lap so they wouldn’t flop onto the floor.

By the time the truck pulled to a stop in front of a short, squat building that looked like a misplaced summer cabin, Mera’s ears were ringing and her whole body was tingling with the vibrations from the road.

The town looked similar to the one of Arthur’s birth, though it did not have boats lapping against the shore, or any shore at all. “Is this a supermarket?” Mera asked as Arthur took her hand and pulled her toward the entrance.

“Nope. Marketplace. General store. Family place. A supermarket is a huge building where you can buy everything you need — ”

“Convenient.”

“Sure, but it’s big and bright and the workers get shit pay and none of it comes from the US so…” He paused and waved his hand with a flourish toward the green door of the local market. “After you.”

Mera walked in first. The air inside was humid and filled with so many unknown scents. Arthur grabbed a hand basket and walked with assured steps toward the numerous booths serving up different foods and produce. Mera followed a few steps behind.

Arthur went first to get some fresh fruit for breakfast, hopeful that they’d be able to stay for that long. Mera eyed everything with wonder and caution.

“It won’t bite,” he said, tossing her an apple.

She caught it, and sniffed it. “Can I eat this?” Her tone was serious.

He smiled and paid the vendor for the strawberries, bananas and Mera’s apple. She hesitantly bit through the red skin, eyes wide as the flavor burst over her tongue. She filled her cheeks like a child.

“it’s good,” she said, covering her mouth to speak.

“Yeah,” Arthur said softly. Mera could single handedly hold back a tidal wave and yet appear so honest and innocent. She was truly something else.

Mera swallowed what was left in her mouth and gave him a smile before looking down at the few things in the basket. “Is that all we need?”

Arthur blinked and followed her gaze. “Uh...no. That would make for...well not the worst dinner I’ve had but we can do better.”

Mera munched her apple and followed Arthur as he bought asparagus and squash and fresh spices. The woman at the spice stand may or may not have been someone Arthur had gone out with in the past, but he couldn’t quite place her face, so he hurried along before his suspicions came true.

As he thought of what they could get to top things off, Mera spotted a vendor whose square of space was overflowing with flowers. There were so many colors and shapes and smells. Mera, who had eaten the entirety of her apple, core, stem and all, walked closer to them.

“Arthur,” she said, spying a flower similar to the ones in Sicily, though they were softer and bigger and had rounder petals. The little sign under them said  _ Tulips _ . “Should we get some of these for dinner too?”

“We don’t usually eat those,” Arthur said, catching her hand before she could grab at one of the flowers.

“No? But…” She frowned, thinking back to that island; the place that was small and quaint and beautiful. She thought of the strange flavor and texture of the red petals.

“It’s not that we  _ can’t _ ,” Arthur hastily tried to come up with an explanation she would understand. “But usually it’s dried and soaked in water. In tea.”

Her frown deepened. “They’re already filled with water. Why would you dry them and put them in water  _ again _ ?”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I have no idea. Humans are weird.”

She let him lead her away. “Your world is so strange,” she said quietly as they headed toward the baker’s station.

“I could say the same about yours,” Arthur said with kind humor laced through his tone. “Here, we’ll get some bread and head back.”

Mera held the hand basket as Arthur searched for the perfect loaf. He found a long Italian bread with a crisp crust that felt soft inside if he squeezed it. After paying, he handed the bread to Mera where it sat in a dark paper bag, and he took the hand basket, putting the items into one of the reusable bags he’d bought at the first stand and putting the basket with the rest by the entrance.

“This does not look like something we should be eating,” Mera said casually as they walked toward the truck. The smell of fish would have engulfed them in the cabin if their windows weren’t down. She got into her seat and watched curiously as Arthur tied the top of the grocery bag and leaned down to put it on the floor at her feet.

“It’s bread, you’ll love it,” Arthur said, straightening up. “Put the bag between your feet so it won’t roll over when we’re driving.”

She moved her left leg and situated the bag between her ankles, the bread still in her arms. “Is this all we need?” she asked.

He gave her a smile. “Yep.”

The trip back was uneventful. Cooking was easy, since Atlanna had never been good at land cooking and Mera had no clue, so the women sat drinking water and wine and chatting about things that neither Curry man could really relate to. The men cooked up a hearty meal of herring, broiled and spiced vegetables, and even put the bread in the oven for a few minutes to get warm and crisp.

Mera didn’t entirely hate the cooked fish, though she’d eaten most of the scales attached before being gently told that she could leave them. She ate them anyway and drank more of the wine, which she thought tasted wonderful, even though Tom confessed it was the cheapest brand he could find. She didn’t know the difference and drank two glasses, though the alcohol didn’t appear to affect her except that she seemed more relaxed by the time the elongated meal finally wound down.

“I’ll clean up, Pops,” Arthur said, standing with a pile of dishes in hand. Their meal had lingered for almost two hours; enough time for the sky to turn dark and the stars to come out. “Why don’t you and Mom take a load off? I’ll take care of this.”

“I’ll help,” Mera offered, finishing off the half a sip of wine in the bottom of her glass. She followed Arthur’s example and took glasses away from the table.

Tom, having had a few beers, got to his feet and gave his son a brief hug and clapped him on his shoulders. “I’m getting old, I may knock out on the couch.” He laughed and he and Atlanna disappeared through the doorway.

Mera gently put the glasses down next to the sink. “They seem truly happy,” she said, her voice soft.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Arthur confessed, bringing over the rest of the evening’s dishes. “My dad spent basically my whole life waiting for her to come back and…”

Mera stepped closer and gently squeezed his arm. “And she did. You found her and brought her back to him...and to you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” He looked down at her, eyes moving momentarily between her bright green eyes and her soft pink lips before leaning in to kiss her. The high tide waters lapped against the coastal rocks below the window over the sink, a calm, familiar sound for both of them.

Mera’s eyes slowly opened when he pulled away, her hand resting against the slope of his neck. 

“Wash or dry?” he asked.

“What?”

Arthur tilted his head toward the mound of dishing waiting. “Dishes.”

“Oh.” She took her hand back and looked quizzically down at the remnants of their meal.

“You dry,” Arthur said, making the decision for her. He took her by the hips and moved her to his other side before tying back his hair with a tie from his wrist and going about the methodical process of cleaning dishes.

Away from Atlantis, they talked about...well, themselves. There hadn’t been much time to get to know each other while they were fighting for their lives and for the lives of all those who would die in a war between water and land. Their upbringings were very different, each as alien as the other, but they shared likes and stories as Arthur scrubbed and Mera showed off by simply swiping a hand through the air and sweeping the water from the cleaned dishes back into the sink.

Halfway through, Tom and Atlanna said their goodnights and welcomed Mera to stay the night along with Arthur if she wanted to. 

“Were we planning to stay through the night?” Mera asked, waiting for him to fill the dish rack one last time so she could quickly dry them.

“Thought about it,” Arthur said, scrubbing the last of the pans. “I bought some stuff for breakfast.”

Mera noticed the fruit he’d gotten at the market sitting on the counter underneath the cabinet she’d placed the clean plates from dinner. “Is there enough room?” While the lighthouse looked like a large enough building, this house was small, even when she compared it to other land homes. Everything felt small compared to her ocean home.

“My bed’s pretty big,” Arthur said off-handedly. He paused his scrubbing and continued speaking slowly, “Where you can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Mera thought about this.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. It’s more comfortable than it looks.”

“We’re in the surface world. Perhaps we don’t have to adhere to Atlantean customs,” Mera said, drying the last of the dishes.

“I don’t know anything about Atlantean customs,” Arthur confessed. “I was trying not to be a dick.”

A small smile appeared on her face. “We’re not…” She paused, thinking things through. “We have no official title to our…”

“Relationship,” Arthur offered, hopeful.

“Yes. We are not betrothed, nor am I a concubine,” she said firmly, “but that is all Atlantean custom. On land, we can do things your way.”

“Wait, you can’t sleep in with someone in Atlantis until you’re married?”

“Perhaps in lower statuses but not if you’re royalty. It’s not proper to even...do what we’ve been doing.”

“Kissing.”

“Yes.”

“So you never kissed Orm?”

She made a face. “No.”

“Cool. So do you want to take my bed or…”

“We can share it, if there is enough space,” she said, which was what she was trying to say this whole time. It just took a while to get there.

“Oh yeah, there’s a whole side of the bed I never use,” he replied, his tone light.

Mera smiled a bit and glanced out the window at the ocean and the clear sky. “Should we sleep now? We can wake with the sun and go for a swim before breakfast.”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, they were in Arthur’s somewhat messy room. Mera placed her borrowed shoes and pants together in a corner and laid down on the top of the dark blanket covering the mattress. It was hard and soft at the same time, and not at all like her sleeping arrangements in Atlantis or Xebel. 

“How are you feeling, anyway?” Arthur asked, taking off most of his clothes. 

Mera’s eyes were closed and she cracked one open just as his weight made the mattress dip down. “What do you mean?”

“You were sucking down wine like a drunk aunt at a party,” he chuckled, getting settled, also on top of the covers. It was a temperate night.

“I don’t know what that means,” she said, closing her eyes. “I liked the taste.”

“Usually alcohol makes people drunk. Sleepy, funny, angry.”

“I feel the same.”

He groaned a little. “Great, another person who can drink me under the table.”

She rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her elbow, finally opening her eyes. The light was dim in the room, she could just make out his features. “You and I have much to learn,” she said, though she didn’t specify whether or not she meant they had much to learn about each other’s worlds, or each other. Maybe she meant both. Maybe she didn’t know exactly what she meant.

“I guess so,” Arthur said, tucking an arm behind his head.

She smiled down at him. “Goodnight, Arthur,” she said, before dipping down to kiss him, soft and sweet and lingering, before she rolled over and stretched herself out nearly at the edge of the mattress, leaving plenty of space between them.

“Goodnight,” he said into the quiet room. It would take a while for him to fall asleep, and little did either of them know, but they’d wake up in the morning cuddled around each other, sleep having taken away the space between them.


End file.
